


Girlfriends Who Slay Together Stay Together

by tententen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tententen/pseuds/tententen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things you have to put up with when you love your life and a woman who thinks antagonizing giants is fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girlfriends Who Slay Together Stay Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyrrium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrrium/gifts).



“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Solona arched her brows expectantly, the wickedly gleeful expression on her face unwavering under Isala’s glare. “You held your own pretty well,” she praised, reaching to thumb a light cut on the elf’s cheek. It wouldn’t take much magic to heal the mark, and it wouldn’t scar. The blood flowing from it had already stopped dripping, though the red blossom on her thigh was the least bit concerning. “Does it hurt?”

“Does it hurt,” Isala repeated slowly, her eyes still fixed on Sol’s face before her gaze dropped to herself, a soft curse rising from her as she noticed her wound. Sol suppressed her snort, mildly impressed by how construed Isala’s common tongue was, her vehement offer to twist the Maker sideways and acquaint Him with the blunt end of her staff while simultaneously introducing Him to the better end of a druffalo much more amusing when the elf managed to say it with such a straight face.

“Isala,” Sol prompted, furrowing her brows when Isala huffed and shook her head. “There isn’t much dirt in it, at least. We’ll clean it out at camp. Bull can carry you, since you don’t like me doing it.”

“I don’t like anyone carrying me,” Isala reminded her before gingerly inspecting her wound, pulling back the torn fabric around it. “It’s going to scar.”

“And you’ll still have the best legs in all of Thedas.” Sol tweaked Isala’s behind as she turned to inspect the fallen giant, grinning broadly when Isala slapped her hand over her ass.

“Stop,” Isala laughed softly, shying away as Sol shuffled closer to her, resting her weight against her staff as she gave Isala an exhausted grin. “Why do you insist on chasing giants?”

“Because it’s fun. Come here,” Sol coaxed Isala closer, brushing her palm against her neck before bowing down to press a gentle kiss to the cut on her cheek. “There, that’s better at least.”

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Oh,” Sol sighed, blinking at the useless limb. “I might have dislocated my shoulder.”

Isala stared at Sol for several moments, ignoring the mage’s dopey smile and allowing her irritation to starve out what awe she had for the other woman’s tolerance for pain. “Bull!” Isala glanced over her shoulder, waiting for the mercenary to make his way down the length of the slain giant to the conversing mages. “Sol is injured. She needs to be helped back to camp.”

“Sure thing, Boss.” Iron Bull paused, his brows furrowing amusedly at Sol’s pursed lips. “You look like you might need some help, too, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t.”

“She does.”

Isala sighed heavily as she was plucked from the ground and draped carelessly over the qunari’s shoulder. She glared at Sol where the woman bounced along with Iron Bull’s movements on his other side, blowing Isala a kiss and laughing out loud when she rolled her eyes.

“What about Varric,” Isala finally gritted.

“I’m here.” The dwarf laughed when Isala lowered her gaze to spot him in Iron Bull’s shadow. “Enjoying the sights.”

“When you write about this,” Sol sighed wistfully as she twisted and shifted, grabbing at Iron Bull’s horn to silence him when he grunted. “Make sure you emphasize how big the giant was.” She paused, sucking on her bottom lip and narrowing her eyes as she cast a long glance over Isala. “And The Hips. Don’t forget to talk about The Hips.”

“Of course.”

Isala sighed heavily, ignoring the laughter around her as she grumbled. By the time the sun set, her face was numb from scowling so much. It returned the second Bull stooped over to set her and Sol down, rolling his shoulders and twisting from side to side before sighing heavily.

“We walked a lot farther than I remembered,” Sol murmured.

“No, we ran,” Iron Bull corrected, pointing in several directions at once, his thick finger jabbing at the air around them. “This way, that way, up there - Varric fell down that-“

“Yes, we remember.”

"I don't think we'll make it back to camp tonight," Isala observed, pressing her hand against Sol's side before pulling it back and frowning down at the blood.

"Oh, that's fine," Sol dismissed casually. She winced at the effort it took to straighten to her full height, tipping her head back to observe the sky. "We'll sleep underneath the stars. It'll be romantic."

"No, that would be foolish," Isala argued slowly. "It's going to get cold. I'll find us some shelter."

“I can look,” Varric offered. “I’m not one for healing. Probably best to take care of Sol’s shoulder, and your leg.”

“I can pop it back in.” Iron Bull moved towards Sol, his brows arched for permission. “It’ll be easy.”

“Go ahead,” Sol huffed, turning sideways.

“You don’t want to take something first?” Isala hovered by Sol, brows furrowing as the mage shook her head and gestured for Iron Bull to hurry. Isala’s lip curled at the wicked pop and Sol’s sudden gasp. She wrinkled her nose at Iron Bull, ignoring his soft chuckle and shifting to brush her fingers against Sol’s shoulder, glowering at it and her before sitting to inspect her own injury.

“It didn’t hurt that much,” Sol laughed softly, crouching to join Isala. She rested her hand against the top of her thigh, her expression hardening somewhat. “Do you have any elfroot?” She grinned at Isala’s snort of indignation before twisting to watch as Isala flopped down on her back. Sol sighed back at her before lying back to join her, rolling onto her good side and pillowing her head on her good arm. “You kicked that giant’s ass.” She studied Isala as the elf stared back at her impassively, expression unchanging. Sol scrunched her face up when Isala shifted suddenly, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of her nose.

“We kicked that giant’s ass.”

“I helped!” Iron Bull scoffed in the distance.


End file.
